Awake and Dreaming

One evening we planned to go to the nearby pub for dinner but after finding it served only drinks we set about walking to the next nearest one our google maps had located. It was already a good time past dinner and we had two rather irritable children who needed food stat. As we walked there weren't even really any other suitable places to stop for food and our 15 minute walked turned into two hours as we got lost, phones went flat and we tried to locate the pub. Lets just call that bit of the trip 'team building'. After a bit of a chat about why we just had to keep going.. ok, about 10 stops to explain why we needed to just keep walking because there were no cabs to be found, we were so proud of how the kids arrived. It wasn't smooth sailing but they really pushed through and we all agreed that food had never tasted so good and we certainly appreciated the cab ride home!.

In the days that followed we ventured out for walks to the park and experimented with tree climbing after loosing a ball or two.
Our little tree sprite spent hours nimbly lifting herself over boughs and playing lookout while her brother ran below. 

Our little introvert E opted for a day of crafting at home while Mr Evans worked, so G and I took the opportunity to go to the British Science Museum ourselves. There was the Red Arrows flight simulator, a large steam engine in operation, a hands on experimental space for kids and a bubble show with awe inspiring bubbles. We had our share of travel fun with a broken underground line and trouble locating our bus but as G and I discussed, that's just what it's like in London.

Convinced that crafting for a day and reading really was her idea of bliss, there was another day when E decided to leave us to our adventures and this time G and I went to Camden Markets to meet my darling friend, a kiwi visiting London. 

A good long girly chat was exactly what her and I both needed and I came home with my soul feeling full. Since I'd spent most of that market trip chatting and keeping G entertained, and because markets are one of Mr Evan's favourite things to do, we took the whole family back a day later. It was our last day in London so we screamed out the door, leaving the house looking like a bomb had gone off in it, thinking we'd sort it all that night before our friends arrived for dinner and we then packed to leave the next morning.

We had a fun day filled with exploring and market food. 

We ended with the girls and boys splitting up. The girls started by perusing the aladdins cave that is the Horse Tunnel Markets. 

G took Mr Evans back to the musem because he wanted dad to ride the Red Arrows with him while the girls did a spot more shopping, joined a tea party, got lost, watched a breakdancing show and took a number of buses to get home.

Our phones were both flat, and so both parties were aiming for an approximate home time of 4.30pm, which would give us enough time for one of us to feed and put the kids to bed while the other collected groceries from tescos, then prepared the meal for our friends who were passing through London and planned to stop in for the evening.

That all turned on it's head when I arrived home to find a note on the particularly messy table from the landlord who had let himself in after not being able to raise me on email or cell phone. "Meg, I think we've got the dates wrong. Someone else is booked for here tonight and they arrive at 5.30. I'll be back soon to clear your things out". Say what!! As I digested the note, his keys rattled in the door and I turned shell shocked to face him. It was an strange but understandable mistake with neither party really to blame but the unchanging fact was that there were people pulling up in half an hour who expected beds for the night and we were the ones who had to move on.

What followed was a whirlwind of shoving clothing in suitcases. I cleared one room while he cleaned and prepared it for the next guests. Poor E worked to gather her craft from all corners of the lounge and did her best to help me collect our belongings. All this while not knowing where Mr Evans was and outside it was starting to drip with dreary grey london rain. Fortunately he arrived in the nick of time. I shoved suitcases at him and the we retired to the stairwell where I searched frantically online for a new place to stay. Cue sad faces and then thank you Lastminute.com!.

We ended up with an hour long cab ride at dinner time, to a hotel back out near the airport which made things easier for the next morning. Meanwhile I messaged my old friend who had just flown in to the other side of London and was about to head to our previous address to visit us. Fortunately her last stop for the night was near our new location anyway and we ended up having a nightcap at the hotel bar to top off the whirlwind of a day.

The next day we were glad of our proximity to the airport with a relatively early departure and Mr Evans and I smiled at each other as we took off for Madrid, thinking how crazy it was that here we were, on our 12th wedding anniversary, still alive, still married, and heading to live in Spain for two and a half months. Awake and dreaming again.

There was a 'Kailee' put on by their church, which involved family games, where our team was robbed of victory in the final and we struggled to keep our competitive kiwi nature quiet.
G was in heaven with room to run and boys to rough house with. 

The kids and Emma also had a day at a 'farmyard' where E reportedly spent a good three hours standing at the fence talking with the horses. It seems we are slowly but surely moving further away from the city folk we used to be and strangely that's ok with me.

One evening Mr Evans and I headed out with Sam and Amy to an old cathedral, reclaimed and turned into a divine restaurant.
This was followed by a bizare late night trip to 'The Boiler Room'. Amy led us down the high street and and to a rather inconspicuous looking old shop front with a large glass frontage. The walls were sparce and white with peeling paint and only a few square white metal boilers, much like the old hot water 'zips' you see in a staffrooms across New Zealand. A counter ran the full width of the room and prevented any of the five people already in the building entrance from going any further. Behind the counter, sat a reasonably burly man with an ear piece and he asked for our name. We loitered patiently, watching as one party who'd had their fill, would come through the door to the left, lift the hinged counter top and exit the building, The people before us would then lift the opposite countertop and disappear through the door to the right, all with nothing more than an nod from our stout attendant. 

Our turn came and we followed the lead of our friends. Lifting the countertop we pushed through the white door and then we found ourselves in a small red room which looked like a bathroom, minus the lavatory. Sam pushed firmly against the handbasin and it swung wide to reveal a large, dimly lit, bustling room with industrial pipes, lamps and plants against walls and hanging from the ceiling. We were met by a chirpy waitress who took us to a table near the bar. The menu read like a safety manual and only cocktails were served, which looked more like science experiments and works of art when they arrived. It was all the fun we had anticipated while we had waited uncertainly by the main doors.

Due to a wedding at our first hotel the final night in Nottingham we had to book different accomodation and we were already well over the travelling hotel life by then. We arrived to what had promised to be a 'double family suite', which I had taken to mean two rooms but instead it was a cramped space complete with a sleeper couch and a trundler bed. To lighten the mood, and get some leg room, after getting the kids to sleep, Emma and I went to use the hotel wifi in the lobby and found ourselves surrounded by yet another wedding party. They had overtaken the small restaurant area and open lobby to the side of reception. Their DJ kept us entertained with a steady stream of 90's pop and 70's funk while we checked our emails. We were half expecting it to be a 'big fat gypsy wedding' and were slightly disappointed to see the older bride waltz past us for a cigarette break outside. It was all class.

The next day we set our course for Lower Brailles. Without a doubt, the prettiest part of England we've seen.
The week that followed was busy and full, with Mr Evans and I travelling between Lower Brailles, Coventry and an obscure part of Warwickshire as we prepped for a Tradeshow. We had only intended to visit the show but when an industry contact offered us his booth space as he was unable to make it we decided to take a gamble, use it for a little market test and see what the UK funeral directors throught of our product. Thanks to Ikea and various other homeware stores we pulled off a display and had possibly the most interest in our product that we've ever had at a tradeshow. It was a large greenlight for us on the UK market and we've been busy since then getting things ready to rollout officially. This was topped off by the novel concept of a medieval family day which the tradeshow ran on the final day. E and G were super excited about their first tradeshow. E relished 'selling' for the hour that she stood and helped on the display.
There were falconry and horseriding demonstrations outside complete with a medieval maid on horseback. E and G scoured the halls for giveaways and treats, heading home with loot bags full of magic card tricks branded for 'Enferno' and matchbox trucks signwritten to look like body removal vehicles. What wonderful memories we're giving our children!.

By week two Mr Evans and I made our first visit to our distributors. A straight five hour drive from Nashville. And when I say straight, I mean, turn left in 222 miles. 

On a freezing cold night we managed to make sense of one of the oldest gas pumps in the state,

which is a good thing because we have the new 2014 Chrysler 300C (I think!?) to fill. Not a big deal car over here at all but Mr Evans liked them when they first came out in NZ so we're ticking that one off the list of cars to drive in our lifetime. 

Nashville has welcomed us. Or more specifically our good friend P-rock and the mighty mexican delights at RosePepper Cantina's helped settle us right in. 

Emma is a true lover of Mexican food which suits us perfectly as that's our meal of choice often times and there's plenty of Tex Mex to be had around here. 

When the food gets too spicy of course you need a little Jeni's Icecream to finish off with. We got there just in time as once we headed home the que snaked around the tables and out the door. 

The one key item on the top of E's list of things to do once we got to Nashville was go horse riding. 

We made our way out to Mt Juliet and drove up the drive past a tired looking structure. 

It didn't take long until E was ecstatically happy, riding by herself and exclaiming regularly 'Look Mum, I'm controlling her!. Old Lacey was near on 18years old and quite happy to humour E by plodding compliantly in line. 

Compliant however is not a word either Emma or Mr Evans could use to describe their horses. 

Judge for yourselves the image below but I see a rather stubborn glint in this horses eye. This was echoed by Mr Evan's horse 'Punk' who certainly lived up to his name over the course of the ride. Before they'd even started Punk managed to give a solid kick to another nearby horse, all with Mr Evans still in the saddle. It was an exciting start. 

G started off well in the coral but by the time I nudged my horse over to where he was waiting the enormity of directing such a large animal by himself was hitting him. I pulled up behind him to see a little face with tears streaming and he was sobbing that he didn't want to do it. 

It would have been easy to take him down and wait at the barn for the others to take the ride but after assessing the options I decided this was a tough love moment. He was on the horse and there was an hour of riding ahead so the guide was good enough to take his lead and a little of the pressure off. 

It was five minutes of bitter tears but once we were 10 minutes into the trail he was a true cowboy and full of bravado. As we recapped the ride with family on skype later that day G happily declared 'Emma was riding and her bikini came off!', meaning her 'beanie'!. 

Aside from adventures out there have been the regular day to day adventures as well. 

G, E and their little friend A, make fun for themselves where ever they go, like this trip to Walmart which resulted in a prolonged look in the groomers window. 

They all go to gymnastics together and Coach Ben, who's quite the man I'm told, has them really working to build strength and skill. 

It seems flexibility is required for doing household chores here also. This snap is of G at about 7am, so keen to get up and do his washing job for the week that he's got himself dressed and is almost inside the washing machine in his attempt to get the clean clothes out ready for drying. I'm not complaining. 

The rubbish removal is also his job some days and this is met with great enthusiasm as he gets to chuck it up into the big compactor. It's the simple things that make life fun. 

Then there are the surprise things that make life fun too. I raced onto a plane to Chicago (that's a whole story of it's own!) for a one day work trip and when I headed to pick up my 'compact economy' rental car I was told they were all out. I'd have to choose between a Toyota Prius or a two door Ford Mustang. Hard choice. My quick snap doesn't do it justice but the memory of the roar down the freeway will do me just fine. 

I missed the large snowfall in Chicago by a day and everything was melting so rather than a picturesque white blanket there was only dirty driven snow on the roadsides and a biting wind to greet me. 

With some stealth, so as not to be caught out before meeting a hundred plus funeral directors in the nearby building, and my teeth clenched against the insidious cold, I managed to snap a quick unflattering selfie in the car park with the largest pile of snow I could find. 

Not long after I returned there was another trip to the distributor and this time we took E with us by herself for the long drive. It was nice to make some time with just her and give her a peek inside our 'working world'. We stayed in a little motel and she was an absolute champion at the office, charming them all and ending up with a selection of trinkets she was given to take home with her. 

Then it was back to the warmth of home and some quality family time making use of the apartment pool complex, complete with spa for the crisp spring days. 

And that's just the half of it. I haven't even started on the funeral tradeshow pictures yet!.

To be continued...

Our apartment is furnished and an absolute godsend, made even more fantastic by the fact that my old flatmate, with his gorgeous wife and daughter, who are ex Nashville locals, are back in town for two months and living in the same complex. A fact we only discovered a few days before flying. All three of the children are super excited at the thought of having playmates nearby and bonded quickly at the airport as we also happened to be on the same flight as them!. 

After a late night wednesday arrival work began on friday and things seem to have kicked off well.
I'm not one to talk to any great extent about business in a public space such as a blog but suffice to say, we are pleased with the way one of our campaigns has started with the sales reps, which thanks to a slightly mad creative idea, has engaged them in a fun way and they are eager to get on the road selling our product.

The weekends have been reserved for family adventures as much as possible and so despite the drizzle, which will apparently be a regular event over the next two months, we had lunch out and a trip to the local library...



...all after we headed to the Nashville Farmers markets for the morning. Winding our way through The Factory, an old reclaimed space we saw it was now full of quaint antique shops, art stores and for this weekend only, a guitar expo. We met an elderly calligraphy artist who drew the kids in by offering to paint for free. 

Bob Coleman, calligraphy artist at work.

It was a 30 minute process during which we heard about his time as wingback star on the football team, how he overcame a childhood of stuttering and his life on a farm where they were the only white family. He told us, 'We had four to five black families working for us and I didn't know I was even white until college!'. The kids were enthralled and both handed over pocket money, despite his insistence that the work was free.

After dodging the puddles we also perused the local offerings out the back at the markets.  E and G were eager to spend some of their american cash and happily handed it over in return for a four pack of homemade gluten free muffins, only to have it handed back to them by the stall owner. The elderly farmer smiled as the realisation hit them that they had muffins and money left!. Southern hospitality is certainly alive and well. Generosity and manners abound and provide great teaching opportunities.

I paid for my gluten free cornbread (which was actually delicious) and to pass my change he unrolled two fistfuls of money. The currency here is still baffling, all the same colour and nickels, dimes and pennies continually play tricks on me. The time is also devious these days. It is 12am and I have no desire to sleep yet, but I will leave these musings here and attempt to make some kind of go at passing the night with my eyes firmly shut. Adios Amigos.